


Tale as Old as Time

by wynnebat



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Beauty and the Beast, M/M, One-Sided Lydia Martin/Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 15:25:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6120876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wynnebat/pseuds/wynnebat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one in which Lydia's got better things to do than be Belle, Stiles is a much more likeable Gaston, and Peter is a beast but not quite beastly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tale as Old as Time

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](http://wynnebat.tumblr.com/post/140065749418/so-ages-ago-i-got-a-prompt-for-disney-au-steter) on tumblr for an old prompt.

Sometimes, when he really let himself think about it, Stiles knew his five year plan to win Lydia's heart was doomed to failure. Despite his alright looks (gangliness appealed to some women, right?), alright standing in the village (maybe a bit of disorderly conduct, but that was ages ago, he'd matured so much since then), and alright personality (he wasn't Jackson, which should endear him to anyone), Lydia had just never returned his heartstruck gaze with anything other than annoyance. Friendship, it seemed, was the best he could do.

Stiles sighed, gazing at the woman in question, who was riding the horse through the village and towards the bridge he was leaning on. Stiles' attention was entrapped by her red hair, but the spell broke as Lydia suddenly stopped her horse a haystack's length away from him and turned toward him with an intent look in her eyes.

"You're coming with me. I might need you to shoot someone for me and I'm not planning on getting blood on my dress."

"I'll be your human shield if it comes to it," Stiles assured her, all but jumping into place behind her. "But what am I shielding you from?"

Through the haze that Lydia's close presence inspired in him, Stiles vaguely heard her say something about her mom having been lost in the woods. For Lydia's sake, he hoped they found her, but it could be said that he wasn't exactly fond of Mrs. Martin. She was _terrifying_. All long, sharp nails and even sharper smiles, telling him about the many stories of what would happen if he even breathed the same air as her precious daughter incorrectly. Lydia had laughed her words off like nothing, but Stiles very clearly remembered the way Mrs. Martin had peeled an apple next to him and eyed him like it was him that would be next.

Still, Stiles would brave anything for love. Even... "We're going into the part of the forest where wolves roam, aren't we."

"Newton knows the way," she said blithely, patting her horse.

The horse led them to a huge, spooky castle far away from anywhere Stiles had ever explored with Scott or any of his other hunting mates. As the large wooden doors opened for them, Stiles laid a careful hand on his rifle. It didn't look dangerous inside, but even wolves could deceive a hunter that wasn't properly wary. First they followed a series of lights down the expansive corridors and through rooms of finery. Then they only needed to go towards a very familiar sound of yelling.

"Let me out of here, you bastard!" came Ms. Martin's voice from a set of painted wooden doors. "You can't keep me in here forever. I'll fashion every single hairpin inside this damned room and go straight for your—"

Stiles unlatched her door. Ms. Martin stumbled through with a makeshift sword made out of cloth and mirror pieces.

"Oh Stiles, this may be the first time I've ever been happy to see you," Ms. Martin said, enveloping him in a tight hug. She pulled away to embrace Lydia, too. "My dear, this has been dreadful!"

"I can imagine," Lydia choked out, prying herself out of Ms. Martin's arms. "What happened?"

"She is a thief," a voice rumbled.

Its owner soon rounded the corner and into Stiles' line of vision. Stiles had seen all manner of beasts as one of their village's hunters, but this... Stiles' eyes could barely handle the creature's grotesque form. His eyes flitted from each feature—shockingly blue eyes, dark fur on every inch of skin, fangs, and monstrous horns—as his mind tried and failed to come up with what this beast could be. And then, he decided it didn't matter, and he pointed his gun at the beast.

"If you come any closer, I'll shoot you," Stiles told him.

The beast curved its lips into a smile and took a step. Stiles didn't disappoint, shooting a bullet into his chest with an accuracy that spoke to many years of practice.

But instead of falling, the beast lunged at him, knocking him against a wall and holding him up. His strength was freakish, impossible, and he pinned Stiles without the slightest bit of room for Stiles to thrash.

"Were you really so overconfident that you believed a bullet could stop me?"

Stiles couldn't help but flinch as the beast's face grew too close to his own, but he willed his fear away and bore his teeth at the monster. "Let me try again and we'll see."

He'd thought he'd diverted the beast's attention well, but when Ms. Martin and Lydia attacked him from behind with a makeshift sword and bed pole, the beast stuck his arm out and brushed their weapons off like flies. Stiles was surprised when instead of lashing out at him, the beast let him drop to the floor.

"Your mother broke into my castle in the middle of the night. She is a thief. I will not let that go unpunished."

"For the hundredth time, I wasn't going to steal anything," Ms. Martin said. Had the situation been any less strained, she would've rolled her eyes.

"Not even the roses you were admiring? Nor the flower you broke off?"

Ms. Martin glared at him. "How was I to know it belonged to anyone? This castle is deserted."

"And yet the roses were obviously well-cared for," the beast countered.

Ms. Martin lifted her chin in stubbornness, but she did look a little guilty. "I'll bring one back from my garden for you, if it's that important to you."

"I won't allow you to leave," the beast told her.

"Or you can't?" Stiles asked, finally shoving himself off the floor where he'd landed. His mind was whirling with what reason the beast could want Ms. Martin to stay. Stiles wasn't the best judge of character, but things weren't adding up. The beast hadn't looked angry when he'd called Ms. Martin a thief—he'd looked terrifying, but Stiles thought that might be the beast's baseline—nor did he seem to want her out of some kind of creepy lust. He'd locked her in a bedroom instead of a dungeon that the castle had to have. The beast wanted something. And people who wanted something—even terrifying, beastly people—could be negotiated with.

Lydia looked like she'd followed his thoughts, and she asked, "What is it that you want from her? My mom doesn't have much." One of her hands was tightly clenched around her mom's.

The beast gazed at her for a long moment.

"Love," he eventually said.

Stiles shared a glance with Lydia.

"There is a curse placed on this castle and on myself that can only be broken by someone falling in love with me and me falling in love in return." The words were said with little hope, and even less optimism as he added, "I will die within a year if nothing changes."

"I won't fall in love with you," Ms. Martin told him, very firmly. "There's already a man in the village who has my heart, and he has it completely."

"And I'm not interested in love," Lydia told him.

"I'm in love with her," Stiles said, nodding over at Lydia.

The beast raised an eyebrow.

"It's cool, I have a five year plan. She'll come around." But as he stared at the beast, whose air of resignation had killed most of the fear that had filled Stiles earlier, he felt some pity for the man under his skin. Not much, because locking people up for stealing a flower was really crazy, but a little. Enough to say, "There has to be a way we can help without being prisoners. Will you take that as payment?"

"My aunt is a powerful witch," Lydia said, looking thoughtful. "If you came with us across the sea—"

"I can't leave the castle grounds, or I would have attempted something similar a long time ago," the beast told her. But he looked like he was coming around to the plan. "One of you will stay. The other two may leave freely. If you wish for the third to ever leave this castle, you'll hurry to break the spell. For if the curse isn't broken, I will never let the prisoner go."

"I don't even know if she can help you," Ms. Martin said. "It make take more than a year just to even find her. I haven't seen her in years."

"You'll find out if you wish to see your daughter again," the beast told her.

Stiles knew what he had to say, but the words were stuck in his throat. Lydia held his gaze for a long moment before she said, "Stiles will be the one to stay. He's good at falling in love. Better than I am."

Her voice was cold, but Stiles had known her all his life. There was terror in Lydia's eyes, beneath the same efficient practicality he'd fallen in love with. Lydia was brilliant, good at solving puzzles, better at winning every game he threw at her. She'd find a way to help him.

And there was no way he would've left her here, anyway. Stiles stepped close to her and kissed her cheek. When he pulled away, he said, "Just throw me into the rapids, will you."

"I'll pull you back. I promise. In the meantime, you will try to fall in love with this beast—"

"Peter."

"—and undo the curse yourself. You can go back to loving me afterwards. I'm sure your new emotions won't hold a candle to however many years you've been in love with me. We'll be back to normal in no time." By the end of Lydia's words, her calm facade slipped a bit, but Stiles held her hand between his until she found a way to compose herself. To the beast—Peter, apparently—she said, "And if I return to find him worse off than I left him, I will burn this castle and you to the ground."

"I will help," Ms. Martin added.

Stiles felt pretty touched. He knew Lydia's words weren't out of love, but... It was easy to imagine it, for just a moment. In the same vein, he looked at the monstrous man in front of him, and tried to imagine them in love.

Stiles left Lydia's side and strode to Peter, stopping only a scant bit of space away and holding out his hand. "Do we have a deal?"

Peter's hand was twice the size of his own, but it was warm, and his claws didn't break skin as they shook. "Deal."

"You'll have to work for my love, you know," Stiles told him.

The beast looked even more terrifying when he smiled. "Once upon a time, my skills in seduction were rivalled by none."

Something told Stiles that even when Peter had been a handsome human, he'd still been a little terrifying.

"Prove it to me," Stiles said, meeting the beast's electric blue eyes.

Because if the beast really tried—with none of that pinning against walls and threatening him bits—Stiles would, too. And he was pretty sure it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world, relaxing in a castle for a year while a man worked for his affections. Maybe he'd even fall in love with someone who loved him just as deeply.

**Author's Note:**

> [+ some not!fic: and then for the next year, once Stiles stops being afraid and starts liking the man under the beastliness, Stiles is a totally conniving little shit. "I'm pretty sure sex hastens falling in love" "I think warmed sheets would really make my heart flutter" Until one quiet day, as Peter's reading in the library while Stiles sits next to him and tries to enchant a mirror without blowing it up, the fur slips from Peter's skin. From one moment to the next, he's human again. And later, there's arguments over who exactly was the first sucker to fall in love, though for the time being that's not quite what's on their minds. When Lydia comes back with a spell to save Peter without any pesky love stuff, she finds a cozy castle that's rebuilding its power and influence over the surrounding area, and a Stiles who is totally, utterly in love, even as he tells her, "Stockholm Syndrome, it's so real." Peter rolls his eyes.]
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Complete; no sequel planned.


End file.
